The Train Ride
by SheRipper
Summary: Two people meet accidently on the train leaving London, both of them carrying their own luggage... Sweet, slow burn, teasing and flirting One Shot
1. Chapter 1: The Train Ride

**The Train Ride**

A man sat in a train compartment, opposite Harry.

Harry didn't bother looking up; he looked through the window down at the platform, where it's bustling with people.

Three kids rushed around, owls in cages, one wearing a middle-aged woman's feathered hat, clearly a pureblood. Harry chuckled as the three young wizards ran straight into a wall and vanished from sight. He didn't even remember today was September first. The nostalgia hit him without warning at all the wizards and witches trying to be conspicuous.

Than the man across from him spoke in such a familiar drawl Harry's head snapped up.

"Well Potter, I can't say I'm surprised you had to repeat Hogwarts for another year." Draco Malfoy smirked, glancing at Harry's heavy luggage at his feet.

"What?"

"I mean, being the Savior shouldn't excuse your utter lack of cognitive capabilities whilst at school. Though I do think it's all for naught, without Granger this year you have no hope to pass."

Harry was so taken aback he snorted at the familiarity that is Malfoy. Well, it already started as a morning for nostalgia.

Malfoy's eyebrows crinkled at Harry's amusement.

"This train doesn't reach Scotland Malfoy, if you don't know that maybe you're on the wrong train." Harry couldn't help but add "And I passed our eight year on my own hard work, not Hermione's, thank you very much." indignant. Although privately he admitted she helped. A lot. Merlin bless Hermione.

Malfoy shrugged, as though to say the feat isn't that impressive. "So did everyone else. What, you want a medal or something Potter?"

Harry took a deep breath. It was impossible, but Malfoy had stayed exactly the same. Well, perhaps he matured a little - the usual bite indicating Harry was meant to be offended was gone.

"You know a medal might be nice, my First Order of Merlin needs something to keep it company on the shelf."

Harry couldn't help but laugh at Malfoy's expression; he knew how to get to him just as well as Malfoy knew how to get a rise out of Harry.

"Good to see your ego is at its usual maximum size." Malfoy said dryly, glancing out the window.

"It's not the only thing about me that's maximum size." Harry said blatantly, winking.

Malfoy huffed an unexpected laugh. "Gryffindors are so crude."

"You're really lecturing me about crudeness? I read the newspaper you know."

Malfoy just shrugged, his expression saying it-is-what-it-is. "People in the wizarding world enjoy the classic tale of an ex-Death Eater from a pureblood family who came out as gay. I doubt they'll stop mentioning me and what I do in my free evenings, any time soon."

"Is that really… a classic tale in the wizarding world?" Harry asked, wondering if this is a weird sort of thing he wouldn't know about the wizarding world, even after years of living in it.

Malfoy tilted his head slightly to the side, considering him. "It's not uncommon, to have characters who have… sinned in their past come out in Wizarding literature over our history. In fact, that's usually the sort of character that represents homosexuality."

"That's really weird." Harry frowned.

Malfoy smiled condescendingly like Harry was a small child. "It's brilliant. No one completely good ever comes out, which tells readers that being gay means this person has done something dodgy in their past, and should not be trusted. It's homophobic without being homophobic."

Harry sighed. "Of course it is. I bet a Slytherin came up with that."

"Really?" Malfoy seemed to think about it. "My gallon is on a Ravenclaw actually."

They shared the silence while the train moved forward gently.

"Seriously, you do know this train doesn't reach Scotland, don't you?"

"Fuck off Potter."

Harry laughed, and suddenly realized he was enjoying himself. After the seriousness and the drama of the past week, a harmless little banter with Draco Malfoy was quite refreshing.

In fact, without the fierce hate and anger that usually transferred between them, it was almost light and playful.

"Alright I'm curious, why muggle transportation?"

"I could ask the same of you Potter." Malfoy said without blinking calmly. He was going through the pages of a muggle newspaper tossed on one of the empty seats with a mildly interested expression.

"Yes but I'm not…" Harry, mercifully not 15 years old anymore, knew when he was heading towards a wrong comment, and stopped himself; from what he's heard Malfoy has truly turned his ways and has been leading a perfect citizen life (though rather explicit if to believe _The Prophet_).

"What? You're not an Ex-Death Eater? A Slytherin? A Malfoy? It's okay to say it, they're all true." He replied nonchalantly, turning the page of the muggle newspaper.

Harry glanced at him. "Yeah, no, that was uncalled for on my part, forget it."

Malfoy actually looked up at him in surprise.

"I was actually going to say that I'm not a Pureblood, so it's not so weird that I'm familiar with muggle transportation." Harry explained, hoping to fix whatever he might have ruined with his conversation partner accidently.

"Well, I was a wizard without a wand for an uncomfortable duration of time in my past, which is why it's not so weird that I'd be familiar with muggle transport either." Malfoy shrugged. "It's not unpleasant, unlike our Knight Bus, but it's dreadfully slow. Still, once in a while it's refreshing, not to be recognized." Malfoy folded the newspaper closed and tossed it back onto the seat he picked it up from. "Bunch of Brexit drama, and the crossword's all filled out." He huffed.

Harry chuckled. "I mean if you ask me, Voldemort was barking –"

Harry saw Malfoy's eyes widen with alertness, and the tension of his body suddenly grow, but despite that, Malfoy did not make a sound upon hearing Tom Riddle's name.

Harry felt himself grin as he finished his thought "- up the wrong tree, trying to get through Dumbledore all these years to get rid of me. He should've just gotten into muggle politics and had this Brexit business up sooner and tried to get all the immigrants deported."

Malfoy rolled his eyes royally, unimpressed. "You're not an immigrant; the Potters have been in Britain for centuries."

Harry laughed. "Come on Malfoy, my dad was fully Indian, as you can see. Britain First is going to take one look at me and go 'Ah, close enough – he's gone with the rest of them!'" Harry waved his arm up and down obviously, gesturing towards his light-brown skin.

"Ugh. Muggles _are_ ignorant." Malfoy drawled.

Harry sighed, not even knowing how to respond.

"Oh I know, I know. Not supposed to say that anymore, it could get me in trouble."

"Nah, I just thought it was a bit ironic of you to say that about Britain First, 'as all." Harry said amusingly.

"I evolved from that sort of thinking Potter; I have seen the error of my ways a long time ago. I run a peace-loving life now, and can barely recall what you are talking about." Malfoy said slyly, looking repentant.

Harry remained unimpressed. "Does that really work on reporters?"

"Reporters? No. Sexy young wizards who love to hear the story of an older man who turned his life around despite all the odds being against him? Yes." Malfoy said straight-faced, unabashed.

Harry wondered for a brief moment about his rushing indignation; of course Malfoy would find a way to spin his war-criminal past in his favor. Harry thought about the weekly parade of Malfoy's dates – their pictures snapped and published on the _Prophet Weekend_ – all younger and incredibly handsome.

Harry leaned back in his seat and huffed, trying not to let it piss him off. "How nice."

Malfoy grinned in a way that almost made Harry wonder if he was completely transparent to the Slytherin.

"Well they all seemed to think so; it's certainly received their recommendations." Malfoy's innuendo was said with such a lewd voice it left no doubt as to what he was talking about.

Harry couldn't help his awkward laugh at Malfoy's dirty joke. "Wow. Hey, that's actually kind of sketchy, especially since they're not here to verify anything."

Malfoy arched an eyebrow. "So you're calling me a liar? You have no reason to doubt me, I was warned about this in the papers; this is blatant discrimination against Slytherins." He accused.

"Don't even try that one with me Malfoy." Harry warned. "My initial reason for doubting you in the first place was because you wanted to be a Slytherin when we met."

Malfoy waved his hand in a gesture to emphasis his point. "See? Blatant."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Oh whatever, your house goal is to be good at cunning. And _**you**_ specifically, in all the years I've known you I think I saw you lie more than I saw you breath."

"Breathing is overrated." Malfoy dismissed, not bothering to deny his past actions at all. Harry appreciated the honesty. "So what's with the suitcase Potter?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

Harry smirked, pleased when he saw Malfoy's expression.

With anyone else he'd simply answer, but with Slytherins they really do want to know, and denying them frustrates them immensely. So Harry doesn't give them the information they want on purpose and instead comments on the fact that they wanted to know so much they outright asked, telling them they cared about the answer; for some strange reason it embarrasses Slytherins.

As an adult Harry has had to learn to deal with many Slytherins on a daily basis, much more then in school – because almost half of all reports are Slytherins, and a third of all the lawyers are as well.

Still, a big bit of Harry's pleasure came from the fact that he now knew that Malfoy actually would like to know about Harry's private life for some reason.

Malfoy got a cold glint in his grey eyes. "I don't care either way." he said, and Harry could just _tell_ that he was lying.

"Of course not, why would you?" Harry said, unable to hide his grin.

He could swear Malfoy's eyebrow started twitching. Malfoy deflected the subject. "Reelections are coming up soon, Granger planning to run for a second term?"

"Weasley-Granger." Harry corrected.

This wasn't new information to Malfoy, who Harry assumed simply didn't feel like acknowledging it in any way.

His suspicions were confirmed when Malfoy didn't even blink and said "Even for a muggleborn, she married down."

At Harry's expression, Malfoy sighed. "I'm not speaking ill of your precious Weasleys Potter, or about your wife. I'm saying my honest opinion about a stupid faced Gryffindor I knew from school."

Harry, conflicted and awkward, half shrugged. Ron, back at school was truthfully a bit difficult to support at certain times. "He's changed, grew up. We all did." Harry said meaningfully, keeping loyal to his best friend, and gesturing at the ex-Death Eater sitting across from him on the train.

"I hate the comparison Potter, but I suppose I have no room to judge others in that respect. So, is she, running again?"

"No comment." Harry said instinctively.

Malfoy blinked at him and then they both grinned.

"Been hanging around reporters too much, Potter?"

"Probably not as much as you, Malfoy."

They both sighed at the sad truthfulness of that, sympathizing with each other.

For a while they sat together in silence, looking out the window as the train rocked forward gently.

Harry didn't know what made him do it, but he heard himself eventually blurting out "Ex-wife."

"Mm?" Malfoy turned away from the window and looked in Harry's direction.

"Ex-wife." Harry kicked the giant suitcase at his feet. "It's my stuff. I moved out today."

Malfoy stared at him, and Harry wondered if he gave him more then he asked for, after all an old school bully newly turned acquaintance probably wouldn't care to hear about something so personal.

But after everything that's happened, he couldn't walk around anymore, pretending he was still married to Ginny. Now that the divorce is official, and he's moved out, the media will hear about it sooner or later and they have no reason to hide it anymore.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Malfoy said carefully, and Harry could almost taste his discomfort.

"Yeah." Harry said numbly, looking out the window. He hated pity, and if he saw it on Malfoy's face, he knew he'll get mad.

"What happened?"

"Grew apart." Harry said, still looking out the window emotionlessly. "It started out once a day, then every day that we took one another for granted. I guess we dropped the ball a long time ago. It happens sometimes, when you're married for a long time."

"You just grew apart?" Malfoy's voice sounded taken aback.

"We did, then she fell for someone else, and we agreed it wasn't working anymore."

"…I see."

Harry sighed; he's probably made Malfoy very uncomfortable by now. He turned to look at him, and Malfoy did look like he didn't know what to say. On some spiritual level, Harry felt proud of himself for managing to get a Slytherin to lose their ability to talk.

"Didn't mean to drop that on you, mate."

"Don't go worrying about others today Potter." Malfoy glared at him. "Seriously, who could she have found that's better than the bloody savior?"

Harry, surprised and as usual uncomfortable with compliments, felt himself grow warmer, and he dropped his gaze, hoping Malfoy wouldn't notice. "I suppose." He mumbled evasively.

"So, who's the man that's brave enough to have an affair with Harry Potter's wife?" Malfoy demanded, incredulous.

"The 'man' is Luna Lovegood."

Malfoy stared at him for a long time in silence. "Oh. That actually sounds like it fits well –" Malfoy quickly stopped when he noticed Harry's expression at his comment. "I mean – that's horrible that it happened to you Potter."

Harry sighed, closing his eyes.

Malfoy coughed awkwardly. "Did you have any idea she might be … rooting for the other team?"

"What? Oh, of course I knew, we're both Bi." Harry rubbed his tired eyes, taking off his glasses. "It used to be romantic… that we both chose each other, out of all the people we knew." Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, and put his glasses back on.

For some reason Malfoy looked like it was hard work keeping up with his trademark composed expression.

Harry wondered if this was too close a conversation for them two, too quickly. He smiled apologetically. "It's okay, don't worry about it. Let's change the subject, yeah? I'm sort of exhausted with it."

Malfoy stood up abruptly, his eyes sort of in frenzy. "Loo, I'll be back shortly." He said distantly and marched away.

"Oh, sure…" Harry called after him, but he was already too far away to hear. Harry blinked after him. "Must've been urgent." He muttered to himself.

Harry watched the landscape as the train rocked softly, moving ever forward. He thought about three months ago, when Ginny told him they weren't working out, about two months ago when they started involving lawyers, one month ago when he signed the final divorce papers, and then as they told their close friends and family, then last night when it got processed and approved, and they were officially no longer husband and wife.

Suddenly Malfoy came back and sat in his seat again, and Harry wondered just how long he's been drowning in his own thoughts. He shook himself mentally.

"So, eh, why are you traveling out of London?" Harry asked, hoping to segway the conversation.

Malfoy acted strangely, taking a quiet moment to look at Harry square in the eyes until Harry found himself uncomfortable. Then he said simply "Can I ask you something?" Malfoy said, in a tone that was meant to be casual, but Harry got a sense that it rather mattered to him.

"Ah, yeah." He answered, wondering what it could be about.

"If things have been pretty much over for a while now, why are you still wearing a ring?"

Harry looked down at the golden wedding ring. He hasn't taken it off since he's vowed to never let go of Ginny's hand. At the time, he had no intention to. Last month, he did just that when he signed the divorce papers.

"We didn't want the press to interfere, so we kept wearing them. Guess it doesn't matter anymore." Harry gritted his teeth as the reality of the situation hit him, and he took off the ring he's been wearing for almost seven years off his finger, and shoved it into his pocket bitterly.

What is he even supposed to do with it now? Sell it? Keep it? Do people keep their wedding rings after they divorce? Do they throw them into the sea like they do in the movies? The ring bore a hole in his pocket Harry was all too aware of.

"I didn't mean to upset you Potter."

"No, it's fine." Harry lied, trying to ignore the ring.

"…I've quit my job."

Harry stared at Malfoy. "Why? I heard you've been doing a great job."

Malfoy grinned, looking slightly pleased. "Naturally Potter. But there's nothing else to do from my position anymore, and the roads to going up in ranks are blocked to someone with a criminal record as impressive as mine, I'm afraid."

Harry looked at Malfoy, trying to see beyond the mask. His own frustration, at being unable to, surprised him.

"Sorry to hear so Malfoy."

"Cause and effect Potter, are a very real thing." He gestured to a small bump in his coat pocket. "I too am moving today, and these are my things."

"What will you do now?" Harry asked, suddenly experiencing a sense of kinship with Malfoy.

"Something, that's for sure. I've had a lot of things I've wanted to do over the years and I've never had the time. Perhaps now is that time."

Harry scratched his finger, not used to not having the ring on it. "Perhaps." He agreed.

When he looked up, Malfoy's eyes quickly turned to the window, but not quickly enough; he was looking at Harry's hands.

_Slytherins are observant._ Harry's brain reminded him in a voice that tended to come in handy when he's on Auror missions. _And Malfoys are even more so._

"I have to go now to the loo as well. Save my seat, will you?" Harry called, getting up.

Malfoy nodded once, barely glancing at him.

As he got ready to leave Harry thought of something, and didn't want to forget, he said "Oh, I guess since you'll be living in the same area as me, it would be awkward not to meet up sometimes to catch up. We should do that." He called, and hurried off – ever since Malfoy mentioned the loo the need to go had grew – is peeing like yawning? When you see someone else do it you have to as well. Harry will have to ask Hermione about it later.

Once Harry washed his hands in the sink and dried them he came out of the stall and a small child was staring at him openmouthed.

Harry hurried to check his zipper. He sighed – it was closed. He shot the kid's parents a look, but they were busy talking and weren't noticing their child was making weird faces at the people who went to the toilet. A lady passed him and walked into the loo he just vacated, and she too stopped when she noticed the little girl was giving her a strange look.

Harry robbed the back of his head; thanking Merlin Teddy was always so well behaved (well except for recently as he's going through puberty, acting out).

He walked back to his compartment, and sat down. "Well, I've faced so many enemies, yet somehow a little girl just managed to freak me out."

Malfoy seemed to blink himself out of some sort of a mood. "Oh, the strange child across the loo? Yes, she made farting noises as I walked by. I quite like her."

"Sure, sure. Totally normal, Malfoy."

"Potter, a child like that will live up to find various nefarious ways to disobey her parents and teachers in life. She's perfect." Malfoy grinned.

Harry chuckled. "Hermione's running for a second election, by the way."

"You're not scared I'll run to the press about this?" Malfoy raised a brow inquisitively.

"When it comes to you and the press Malfoy, I am very sure you'll always be running _away_ from them, never towards them."

Malfoy grimaced. "That's for sure. Pests." He leaned back in his seat, his expression clearing. "I'll share news too – I heard from Cormac McLaggen he's going to run in the elections."

Harry was thoroughly indignant. "McLaggen from school?! He's been handling the department of International Magical Cooperation for six weeks, and already half of the countries won't speak to us anymore!"

"Yes, the one and only. They've been moving him from department to department, because of all the damage he causes." Malfoy drawled with distaste.

"He should get fired." Harry said, determined to make it happen if he can.

"He's a McLaggen – they're not going to fire him Potter. Although I heard Granger has been giving it a good healthy try. I'm rather relieved to hear she's running again, I don't think we'd survive under that arrogant toad."

"So he's announced it officially? Do you have any idea how much support that blown up idiot has?" Harry asked defensive for his friend; there's no way he'll let Hermione lose this fight.

"Hasn't announced it yet, it's too early anyways. I think some of his old uncle's friends would probably back him up, a good sum of money amongst all of them, but not much in popularity." Malfoy said easily, not concerned. "Granger is a fan favorite – the people will choose her as long as she's running."

"Did he ask you to donate money to his campaign?" Harry guessed; Malfoy, whilst his past is too dodgy to allow him a high position of power within the ministry in this lifetime, is a _big_ donor in the game when he decides to intervene. Surprisingly, he rarely does, except in charity events or launches of new departments. Over time, it was made clear he isn't trying to influence the power in the wizarding world and that put a lot of people weary of him at rest over the years.

"No, he didn't even try. He's not that slow."

"Then why would he tell you?"

"What can I say, I'm vain, and he's not terrible looking." Malfoy shrugged slightly.

"Ew!"

Malfoy seemed amused. "Ew?"

"It's in my head now! I can't unsee this Malfoy." Harry complained, frowning at the images. Harry could admit McLaggen was handsome – has been since he's met him at Slughorn's compartment at school, but he's such a git!

"Not much in his brain to pick at, however. I got bored rather fast." Malfoy confessed, unknowingly agreeing with what Harry was thinking. "Our conversation so far has been more interesting than all the ones I've had with him."

Harry felt himself grow more aware. Though Malfoy spoke normally Harry wondered if he was picking a signal that's there or maybe isn't.

"So I'm interesting, am I?"

"A bit. You're not dull, I'll give you that much."

Harry grinned, feeling light as a feather. "Thanks. And what else will you give me?" Harry winked, feeling a good nervousness he hasn't felt in years.

Malfoy calmly smiled, getting up.

A voice broke over the train, calling "Arriving at platform, passengers please make sure not to leave behind any –"

"I'm not looking to be anybody's rebound Potter." Malfoy spoke clearly, getting out of the compartment. "Instead, let's meet to 'catch up' like you suggested before, and go ahead and call that a date."

Harry felt his heart skip a beat. Did Draco Malfoy just ask him out on a date on a muggle train? And why is his brain fixated on the last part so much?

"You can say no, if you're not into that Potter."

"No – I mean no to not being into that." _Get it together fool_. "…It's a date Malfoy."

Malfoy grinned. "I'll Owl you soon, once I get settled, if that's alright."

"Oh yeah, I probably need to do that as well." Harry realized.

"Try to hurry, I won't wait forever." Malfoy said gently, glancing at the pocket where Harry placed his wedding ring. "It's a date Potter." Were his parting words before he left, mingling with the sea of people getting off the train.

_Harry James Potter, you have your first date in years_… Well, this ticket to the train ride was well spent.

* * *

That day, Draco Malfoy experienced two existential crises that put his poker face skills to the test, which he amazingly soldiered through:

Draco Malfoy existential crisis 1: when Malfoy's at the loo:

"So you're telling me that you're interested in men _AND_ YOU'RE SINGLE? Is that what you're telling me? _Are you for real?!_ Why don't you just burst into a musical and ask me to the Yule Ball too since we're playing out every school fantasy I ever had for Merlin's sake!"

Draco Malfoy existential crisis 2: When Harry's at the loo:

"Living in the same area? We'll be **living in the same area?!** Meet up some time to catch up?! Is this a chance with Harry Potter offered to me by the gods or something?! HOW IS THIS ALLOWED TO HAPPEN SO PERFECTLY?! Where's the catch, universe? I know there's always a catch! Reveal yourself to _meeeeeeee_!"

I encourage you to go back and re-read the story knowing this is what Draco was thinking whenever Harry wasn't around – it'll amuse you as much as it amused me. I just wanted the first read to keep you and Harry on your toes, I suppose, to make this more fun.

And with this,

_**The End.**_

Thank you for reading and all the support! Tell me if you'd like a sequel – or another chapter for the date. you can send it here or via my Tumblr - I'd love to hear feedback! My Tumblr is Sheripper-Fanficer


	2. Chapter 2: The Coffee Shop

**Part 2 - The Coffee Shop**

The man Harry was looking for was sitting with his back to the wall, in one of the more hidden tables at the end of the coffee shop. He was half hidden behind a newspaper, but his hair was unmistakable.

Harry rubbed the back of his head. "Don't be nervous, don't be nervous. He's a Slytherin, they probably have nerve sensors or whatever –" Harry muttered to himself. He took a deep breath, smoothed his green shirt, and walked over.

The man was dressed in a white buttoned-up elegant shirt, his hair brushed to the side; a fringe of blond that wasn't there when Harry saw him on the train was resting on his forehead almost reaching grey eyes.

He coughed to get the man's attention.

Draco Malfoy looked up and Harry noticed he was holding two newspapers – the outer one had pictures on it that didn't move. The newspaper inside it had pictures that did.

"Hello Potter, you're welcome to sit." Malfoy gestured at the seat opposite himself.

Harry did just that, saying "Hey Malfoy. It's good you're hiding _The Prophet_ from view, but you're still pretty suspicious."

"How so exactly?"

Harry gestured around them. "Muggles mostly don't walk around with newspapers anymore. They have their SmartPhones."

"If their phones were so smart, they'd tell the muggles to carry and read more newspapers." Malfoy reasoned.

Harry chuckled, and decided to leave it alone for now. It took way too long to explain the internet to Ron, and he wasn't sure it was even possible with Malfoy.

"Anything interesting?" Harry asked without true care; he and Ginny split up publicly recently, and _The Prophet_ has been having one long siesta on their account via article after article. For this reason, he simply ignored them for the past month or so.

"More like comical." Malfoy drawled. He dropped the paper on the table, closed; so Harry could see the front page.

It wasn't about his divorce, for once.

Harry nearly choked. "McLaggen Will Lead Us to the Future?! _UGH_."

Malfoy nodded, as though for him that was the only appropriate reaction. "Ugh indeed Potter. Looks like someone really loves him at _The Prophet_."

"I know exactly who loves him." Harry grumbled, pointing out the name of the reporter on the front page news. "Bill McMillan. I didn't agree to an interview with him after a major mission with the Aurors. He's been insulted ever since."

"…Correct me if I'm wrong Potter, but isn't Bill McMillan the head editor of the newspaper?" Malfoy said slowly, as though speaking to a toddler.

Harry blushed, embarrassed. "I didn't say it was my wisest moment." Harry wondered how Hermione will react when she finds out this is technically – _technically_ -…Harry's fault.

"Somehow, I'm certain no one would say that." Malfoy left the newspapers on the table in favor of grabbing hold of the menu and looking over it. "Weren't you friendly with his little cousin, the blown up Hufflepuff from our year at Hogwarts?"

"Ernie. And he's not – "

Malfoy gave him a look that made Harry's heart beat just a little faster.

"Alright he was a bit self-important. He's a real chap now though." Harry shrugged. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"Potter if I have to explain what having connections means, I'm afraid your situation will remain as dreadful as it is right now."

Harry looked Malfoy dead in the eye from across the table. "Thank you for worrying Malfoy." He said sweetly.

As he expected, Malfoy looked royally pissed off. "Ernie's not the only one blown up, it seems." He frowned.

"Hey don't worry about it, unlike Ernie, it's cute on you." Harry winked.

To Harry's immense pleasure Malfoy's cheeks grew a little pinkish. He was also glaring at Harry, but that was something Harry rather expected.

Harry pretended not to be smiling and grabbed a menu as a ruse.

There was a moment of silence.

"Speaking of your friends how did Granger and Weasley take the news that you're on a date with me?"

"They didn't." Harry told him, his stomach starting to draw his attention to the menu he was looking over.

"Haven't told them I take it?"

Harry carefully put down the menu and looked at Draco Malfoy; he looked casual, but Harry was perceptive enough to realize Malfoy may have taken that as a slight and was offended.

It downed on Harry it likely sounded like he was ashamed of going out with Malfoy.

Gently, Harry told him "Whether it moves forward beyond one date or not, this thing is just between us. It's new, and I'd like to keep it ours for a little while longer." Harry added "Sorry, I get selfish like that."

He smiled good-naturedly, in a way Ginny often jokingly warned him not to aim at anyone except her.

"Oh. Um –" Malfoy cleared his throat carefully, eyes slightly widened. "It's no trouble."

Harry raised his eyebrow and looked around. He signaled a waiter who noticed and hurried over.

"Ready to order?" The young man smiled in what Harry assumed was a top-tipped-waiter-smile.

"We haven't decided yet. But could we have two waters please?"

"Of course sir." The waiter jotted it down and skipped away to another table that called him over.

When he left, Harry turned to Malfoy who was staring at him like he was Hermione faced with indisputable proof that Nargles exist.

"Alright?" Harry asked him.

"Yes." Malfoy said in a strange voice. "Thanks." He added, nodding towards the waiter.

Harry nodded, looking over the menu. "They have quite a big menu for a coffee place. I think I'll probably get a pizza."

"Mm. I'll get the Pumpkin Ravioli with mushroom-cream." Malfoy said offhandedly.

Harry stared at him.

"What?" Malfoy inquired, looking back, politely confused.

"Nothing." Harry said instinctively.

Malfoy gave him a slightly annoyed look, clearly disliking not being answered.

Harry knew his whole life people have been overlooking the fact that he was very perceptive. Even as an Aorur, people seemed to find it difficult to remember he was likely observant.

Maybe it was the whole – _**Boy**_-Who-Lived – thing. Maybe it started with the Dursleys who caused Harry to have an underwhelming personality that often caused people to instinctively feel too comfortable around him, instead of weary or careful. Thinking about it, it probably ended up saving his life on several occasions.

Still, he was surprised Malfoy was almost obvious about it.

"What is it Potter?" Malfoy said tightly, and Harry looked up, wondering how long he's been frowning at his menu for Malfoy to actually ask a second time.

Harry gave him an apologetic look, knowing he wasn't meant to figure it out.

"You've had a lot of dates here?"

Malfoy froze, surprised. "I – not a lot." He seemed embarrassed.

"It's okay." Harry reassured him. "Is the pizza good?" he asked jokingly.

"How did you know?" Malfoy asked, and Harry thought he sounded genuinely confused.

"Well," Harry shrugged. "every time you picked up the menu you never turned it around – which is where the Pastas section is. You're eyes also never moved from side to side so at first I thought maybe you were looking over the pictures, then I realized you didn't need to read it – you were just glossing over the titles, jogging your memory as you did."

After a moment Malfoy said "And you noticed all of that?"

"Yes." Harry said simply, unwilling to feel offended – Malfoy wasn't the only one to assume over the years, it would be stupid to be bothered by it now.

The waiter came back with two glasses of water. "Ready to order?" he smiled widely.

"Yes, I'll have the pizza." Harry said politely, handing him his menu. The waiter took it and wrote down his order.

"Any toppings?"

"Er –"

"Can I suggest Bulgarian Cheese and tomatoes?"

"Sounds great." Harry smiled.

"And I'll have the –" Malfoy started, drawing the waiter's attention.

"The Pumpkin Ravioli, mushroom-cream sauce?" the waiter smiled like he passed a test. "You're a regular practically, I remembered correctly?"

There was a very awkward moment as Malfoy closed his eyes, then opened them like a torturer was forcing him to, and said in a clipped voice "Yes. _Thank you_."

The 'thank you' was clearly a dismissal rather than gratitude.

The waiter nodded cheerfully. "Your food will arrive shortly." And he left.

Harry was almost shaking in his seat, laughter so loud people from nearby tables were glancing at them.

"I… should apologize –" Malfoy began, face twisted painfully at addressing what happened.

Harry waved him off at once. "Your expression was priceless Malfoy." He said, trying to commemorate it in his memory.

When Harry calmed down a little, he grinned at him and asked happily "So how am I doing compared to the other dates you've had here so far?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes, sitting a little less stiffly then before. "Most of my dates go a lot smoother than this usually." Then he grinned a little and Harry's breath caught in his throat. "But at least I was right; you are interesting Potter."

Harry leaned on the table on his left arm, palm under his chin, fingers covering his mouth. He was staring outright and being unapologetic about it, he knew.

"…Yes?" Malfoy asked, raising an eyebrow at Harry's boldness.

"You're rather beautiful." Harry told him conversationally, as though examining a painting at an Art Gallery.

Something sharpened behind Malfoy's usually steady eyes, but he looked down before Harry could question what.

Malfoy almost seemed coy. Almost.

"Are you blushing?" Harry's eyebrows rose all the way up.

Malfoy smiled bewitchingly, like he knew exactly what he looked like and without an ounce of shame said

"What can I say? I enjoy being appreciated."

Harry leaned back, his hand slipping off the table. "I wasn't appreciating you." He told him calmly, grabbing his glass of water. "Just your looks."

"One would normally assume the two are one and the same." Malfoy said dryly, in an unfriendly manner.

Harry looked away awkwardly. "I don't think they are. I didn't agree to this date because of what you look like."

There was silence for a moment.

"Is that so? Why did you agree then?"

Harry looked him dead in the eye and said honestly "You're quite interesting yourself."

Malfoy's eyes widened, his brow wrinkled, and his lips twitched.

Harry realized at that moment that this is the first real reaction he saw from Malfoy all night, and the rest was deliberate and possibly fake.

Harry frowned; what sort of dates has Malfoy had? The type to drool and stare at him but show complete disregard to who he was? Harry was away from the dating world for a good few years – but was beginning to remember just how harsh it was sometimes. And Malfoy was photographed weekly with different company.

"I like getting to know you. Is that okay?"

"Potter," Malfoy stopped, looking like he was fighting a smile, and then started again. "You're doing very well, compared to the other dates I've brought here."

Harry grinned. "Better than McLaggen?"

"Shut up." Malfoy said, as Harry began chuckling.

Malfoy drank from his water, and then closed the muggle newspaper, hiding the magical one inside.

"Your order." The waiter called, appearing behind Harry with their food.

He placed the pizza in front of Harry and a bowl of ravioli in front of Malfoy, and three small containers of sauces between them.

"Thank you." Harry said, and waited until the waiter smiled in gratitude and then left them to turn to Malfoy and say "I don't think he noticed when he was over here last time."

Malfoy seemed contemplative, but Harry didn't think it was because of the possibility that they just revealed magic to a muggle.

"Same. But he also didn't lean onto the table to place plates on it, so he would've gotten a closer look and seen moving pictures."

He probably thought it was a tablet, Harry thought. "Good catch." Harry nodded. The food smelled good, and the pizza looked delicious.

They ate a few bites.

"The pizza _is_ good."

"Mm." Malfoy said noncommittally. "Speaking of muggles – did you read their news?"

Harry sighed, remembering his long week. "More like I've lived it. Now wizards and witches are starting to realize that some of them are registered by the muggle government as citizens and are worried they'll be deported."

"That's insane." Malfoy said, surprised. "I would've heard about it already."

Harry appreciated that Malfoy didn't comment on those witches and wizards being either muggleborn or halfbloods – as that's the only reason they'd be on muggle records.

"It's being kept quiet to avoid mass panic. But honestly there's more and more of them and they're calling for the ministry to intervene and prevent Brexit."

"It can't, our ministry isn't allowed to interfere with the muggles' government." Malfoy said like it should be obvious to anyone.

"Yep. Which is why we won't, which is why they're pissed and protesting, which is why I've had a long week."

"Sounds tough." Malfoy agreed, taking another bite. "Will you get deported?" He asked jokingly.

Harry smiled at him. "Bet you would've hoped for that back when we were at school."

Malfoy tried not to smirk and failed. "Probably wouldn't have protested too much."

"I'm sure." Harry rolled his eyes, both glad they can laugh about it now in a friendly manner, but also still pretty pissed about the memory of their relationship back at Hogwarts.

After a few bites Harry started "M –" than stopped. Harry was being careful not to call him Malfoy throughout the date. By the end of the night if it goes well they'll likely start naturally calling each other by their first names.

"I – er – haven't seen anything about it. Did you decide what you'll do now?"

Malfoy didn't show that he noticed Harry was being a bit weird, but Harry assumed he did anyways.

"You mean for work? I did get an offer, but I'm still considering it."

"Bad conditions?"

"Very. For one thing, I will no longer live in the same area as you."

Harry laughed. "Shut the offer down at once."

Malfoy smiled at him. "What about you? When we last spoke on the train you seemed ready for… new beginnings. I may be overstepping, but how happy are you with the Aurors?"

"Miserable." Harry grinned. "I used to love it, I assumed it's because I've grown used to the overall work you do there that I've sort of stopped loving it lately."

Malfoy's expression was light and conversational, but his eyes were sharp like hawks. "Then quit. Or ask for a transfer and move to another department for a few years."

"Call me a Gryffindor, but I hate quitting." Harry admitted, knowing he's considered all that and more himself but at the end stayed.

Malfoy considered him closely, and then took a slow unconcerned bite from his plate. "I wouldn't call you a Gryffindor for that Potter." He said naturally.

"No?"

"No. It takes bravery to leave something that doesn't make you happy."

Harry's mind flashed to Ginny, finally bringing up how unhappy they've both been and asking for a divorce.

"I see." Harry said gently, looking at his food.

There was a long moment of silence before Malfoy said

"I'm sorry Potter, I was harsh."

"No." Harry smiled. "You were accurate."

Ginny _was_ brave, to admit it when Harry refused to. He realizes he regrets not being the one who stepped up. Ginny was brave. She was a Gryffindor. Maybe he can still be one too.

"Maybe I will quit." He looked at Malfoy kindly. "I did get an offer some time ago, maybe I should accept."

Malfoy, thankfully, let Harry steer the conversation forward. "If it's good you should."

"Well, it's got one downside."

"Bad conditions?" Malfoy grinned encouragingly, and Harry marveled he was being cheered up.

"Very. I'd have to move away –"

"Turn it down right now."

They both chuckled and ate their food pleasantly.

After several moments of contemplation, Harry realized there wouldn't be so many jobs at the wizarding world where you'd need to move for them.

Harry looked up at the same time Malfoy did.

"Was it McGonagall who -?"

"Did Minerva happen to -?"

They both stared.

Slowly, Malfoy smiled, showing teeth. "Well."

"I mean." Harry didn't know what to say. He supposed it was June, so Minerva would sort out her staff by now, and about three of her teachers retire this year. Still, this is one hell of a coincidence.

"I was asked to teach Potions." Malfoy told him, gesturing for him to speak next.

"Oh yeah. I was asked to teach DADA."

"I assumed as much." Malfoy grinned. "Will you really accept?"

"Will you?"

"Well, there's a clear benefit."

Harry felt his cheeks warm. "Is there now?"

"Yes. I'd get to daily embarrass my little cousin."

Malfoy sniggered into his hand, amused by Harry's glare.

"Well as his Godfather it's my duty to protect him from you. I guess I've got no choice."

"How convenient."

Harry sighed, but also couldn't stop smiling.

They ate and talked about what they'd each teach, if they accepted McGonagall's offer.

After a while Harry released some stiffness from his shoulders, and realized he might be having a lot of fun, something that's been in short supply lately in his life.

"- I can't wait to insult The Weird Sisters during a class and watch him hold himself back from yelling at me." Malfoy smirked.

"Oh yeah, Andromeda said something about Teddy getting on your nerves last time I saw her." Harry remembered.

"I have no idea what you mean Potter."

Harry gave him an unimpressed expression. "Even you'd need a reason to want to bother him at school so much. What happened?"

Malfoy didn't try and hold up the façade. He shrugged. "It's entirely possible that the last time I visited the little brat he morphed his hair to look like mine only much longer, then went on about something along the lines of 'I've got better hair than you.'." Malfoy smiled pleasantly, eyes cold.

"Wow it really bothered you didn't it."

"Not at all." He lied.

Harry felt bad for what's coming his poor Godson's way.

"So who will you be voting for?" Harry asked curiously, taking the last bite of his pizza.

Malfoy was nearly done with his dish as well. "It's between Bones and Granger, isn't it?"

"Absolutely, there's no way MgLaggen makes it to the final voting." Harry agreed.

"I guess I'm on the fence. No point in asking you, I assume." He glanced at Harry.

Harry shrugged in admittance. "My vote goes to Hermione, I suppose that was obvious."

"Gryffindor." Malfoy called him.

Harry laughed a warm feeling in his gut.

When the bill arrived Harry took it instinctively, glancing at the price and getting out his wallet.

"Let's split it Potter. How much?"

"Nah it's okay."

"I want to."

"It's fine I can get it. You don't have a job so –" Harry caught the expression on Malfoy's face and took six giant mental steps backwards. "Let's split it."

"Wonderful idea." Malfoy said dryly, but his lips were twitching.

When they paid they both rose, and put on their jackets, and whilst they did Harry sneaking glances at Malfoy; his form, his eyes, his body, his eyes, the way his slender fingers moved against the fabric of his jacket, his boney shoulders, his eyes. When Malfoy caught those glances Harry's gut feeling intensified, and instead of looking away his eyes lingered even longer.

After a few panicked heartbeats, Harry cleared his throat, reminding himself they're at a public place and this was a first date.

"Ready?"

Malfoy nodded charitably and they began walking towards the exit.

"Have a good night!" The waiter smiled, waved as they left.

Harry waved back. "They're service is pretty good." He complimented, thinking he might return to the coffee shop again.

Malfoy burst out laughing.

"What?" Harry blushed, indignant but also turned on.

"That waiter's been hitting on you all bloody night you moron."

Harry opened his mouth to disagree, than thought about it.

"Ah." He said. What do you know? _Way to miss it, Auror_, Harry thought.

They walked a bit, Malfoy leading them. Harry's apartment is five minutes across the road, but he keeps walking with Malfoy.

They reach a small house, plain overall but very nice looking. Not exactly homey, considering Harry actually saw the inside of Malfoy Manor – this was hella homey in comparison.

"This is me." Malfoy stopped and turned back to Harry, who couldn't look away from silver eyes.

Slowly, he started inching closer. Malfoy let him.

Harry paused, just before his lips touched Malfoy's.

Malfoy leaned forward, and it was like Harry was electrified. The next thing he's aware of is raw hunger, as he has his tongue in Malfoy's warm mouth, tasting him sweetly, and shuddering when Malfoy kissed him back – he's really good at it.

After a long, nice, moment they pulled apart.

Harry is catching his breath and watches as Malfoy actually _licked his lips_ and said "Not too shabby Potter."

"_Why_ do you still call me Potter?" he couldn't help but point out, disappointed.

"…Old habits, I suppose." He admitted, his cheeks tinted with pink, as though he didn't even pay attention to it.

"Ha. Fair enough, Draco."

Malfoy blinked once, slowly, studying his face carefully.

After a moment of some inner-battle, he responded with a grin.

Harry's eyes fixated on those lips, stretching thin less of pleasantries and more as a wicked warning.

"I enjoyed tonight, we should do it again." Malfoy said politely, grin still set free.

Harry felt himself smile sweetly, charmed.

"We'll have to, since you enjoyed it." Harry made sure to say the words 'enjoyed it' as suggestively as possible.

Malfoy's eyes crinkled in amusement, and his cheeks almost looked pinker to Harry (or maybe Harry was just hoping they were– it was hard to be sure in the dark).

"My, my, if only the press could hear The Great Hero of Innocents now." Malfoy said teasingly, folding his arms across his chest.

"Don't. Please." Harry begged, hoping Malfoy would believe his discomfort was the thought of him talking to the press about Harry's flirting and not because, in fact, hearing himself described as 'The Great Hero' by Malfoy was making a _part of his body _specifically uncomfortable.

Malfoy smiled and leaned closer.

He smelled good. _So very good_. Almost _**eatable**_ –

"Owl me, I'm curious to find out how filthy you can be. _Harry_." Then - the bastard - he turned around, waved his wand to open his front door, walked in and turned back to face Harry from the inside of his house.

He actually laughed when he saw Harry's face. Full blown laughter the likes of which Harry has never seen from him before.

"Anything the matter?" Malfoy asked sweetly.

"You absolute git." Harry bit through gritted teeth, folding his knees and dropping to the ground.

"That's rude." He heard Malfoy's amused voice. "What did I do?"

"You know what you did!" Harry wondered if he should risk trying to Apparate home or send Hermione a Patronus asking if you can Apparate safely whilst being hard.

Hermione would be at the office, even though it's almost eleven O'clock, and probably surrounded by a shit ton of political officers all of which will likely recognize his voice or his stag.

And Harry could admit it might stretch beyond the regular duties of their friendship. He could ask Ron, but Ron might not know – likely – or he would know and Harry won't be able to look either of his best friends in the eye for the rest of their lives because there'll be only one reason for Ron to know.

"You're rather easy to rile up Harry." Malfoy seemed entirely too delighted by this.

Harry glared at him, aware that standing up right now will only give Malfoy the proof he needs to not only suspect but also _**know**_ how much he's affected.

Harry looked at Malfoy's face and thought –

Fuck it.

"Nah, I'm not easy at all. I'm actually very hard Draco."

Malfoy burst out laughing appreciatively, leaning on his door.

"I've suspected. Your honesty is refreshing."

"Glad to hear it." Harry's voice was becoming embarrassingly husky and rough, unable to forget how Malfoy smells like. For a moment he thought he saw Malfoy jump a little but dismissed it and focused his magic best he can. "I had a fun time with you too. Goodnight Draco."

Harry pulled out his wand.

"Um – yeah. Goodnight."

Harry nodded, not paying attention to the small quiver of Malfoy's voice, and Apparated to his house hoping he didn't splinch himself.

* * *

That was Harry and Draco's first date. They had many more during summer, but much fewer during the school year, both having eventually accepted McGonagall's offer. Harry decided to surprise Hermione and Ron about the news of who his secret boyfriend is at the celebratory feast in honor of Hermione's successful reelection as Minister for Magic. Whilst Ron was busy spluttering Harry noticed a familiar face across the room watching him. He and Ginny exchanged looks. She nodded, holding Luna's hand. Harry nodded back, smiling at Draco. He should really thank her for having been a Gryffindor.

The End

_**A\N: THAT'S IT DONE! Thanks for all the support - this is the part 2 I didn't mean to do because you guys insisted! See you guys on my next project :)**_

_**P.s: special thanks to Human-Heart - your comment was so great thank you it made me so happy! And every one else's as well!**_


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